Date: Sat, 24 Nov 2007 17:14:06 EST
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Shop Til You Drop
SHOP TIL YOU DROP
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM
My sister steered me toward the tailor's shop she'd been raving about. I
dodged a couple of teenaged girls en route who were apparently trying to
run into me. They giggled and one hand reached out toward my crotch and I
managed to dodge it. God, it's enough to make you throw up, the way girls
are getting these days, it's gone beyond the flirtation of my youth all the
way out to brazen grabs at my cock! I ran a gamut of hands and stares and
giggles every time I go out.
As if to underline that, my sister noticed my reaction. "God, Brad, quit
acting like you're one of those guys who don't like to be touched!"
"I don't want to be touched!" I agreed.
"They were just flirting with you."
"I don't call a crotch grab flirting with me!"
"It's not that bad!" my sister scoffed.
"You want to bet?" I challenged her.
Now, I'm NOT a male model. I'm NOT a movie star. I'm just an ordinary guy
who'd had the bad luck to be born too damned pretty! Honest, if I'd had any
desire to be a model or such, it wouldn't be so bad, but as it was, hell! I
get a job in an office and I have to fend off advances from the secretaries
all the way up to the female chief financial officer. I go to a bar and I
get phone numbers by the handful and a fair number of free drinks. I go to
the beach and...but I don't go to the beach anymore, so many eyeball tracks
over your nearly nude body can really freak you out. I'd lost my virginity
at fourteen, been sexually satiated at seventeen, and now at twenty-three,
I just wanted to be left alone!
For anyone else, this would be a dream come true. Me, I'm just wanted to be
an ordinary guy. I'd thought about plastic surgery, something to make my
face a little less perfect, my nose a little less regal, my jaw a little
less dynamic. It's a bitch being too good-looking if you don't want to deal
with the baggage that goes with it, and I didn't!
Well, at least the tailor's was a man's clothing only store. I could count
on few if any women inside. Though God knows if any were in there, I'd be
trying on clothes for a female audience!
But the store was clear. Just a young man who scurried over and said, "May
I help you, sir?" His hair was sandy, his body thin but well-formed, his
smile fairly sizzled as he saw me. Even the tailors who have families and
children have that look, I think it's a sort of sublimation that they have,
it lets them feast their eyes upon the male body on a regular basis without
the inconvenience of hitting a gay bar. They never go any further than
looking at their customers' bodies...until I come in to buy a suit, that
is.
"Yeah, I need to get some suits made." I said. Looked over my shoulder. I
could be seen from the mall. "Can we take this to the back of the store,
maybe?"
The salesman followed my gaze, two young women were peering inside the
window. "Certainly, sir, this way, if you please."
There was an area at the back perfect for trying on suits. While not a
room, it was a clear area, with a three-angle mirror and enough room to
move about. A pedestal in the middle helped the tailor get the sizes right.
"If you'll be so kind as to remove your shoes and trousers, sir." the man
said to me.
"I take a size 24 waist." I told him as I kicked off my loafers. "And a 28
length."
"Of course, sir, and a medium jacket." his tone said that he had known my
sizes the minute he saw me. "How about the French silk in dark blue?"
"That sounds fine." I said, unfastening my jeans, pulling them down to my
ankles (they were a snug fit) and stepped out of them. Looked up. The
salesman was still there, and his eyes were not on my face.
"Uh, the French silk?" I said. "24 waist, 28 long?"
"Right, sir, right." the salesman shook himself and took off. Looking back
as he did so, bumped into a rack of clothes, caught himself, and went into
the back room.
I shook my head. This is a yearly ordeal for me. If I'm going to get my new
suits, I have to come in and be measured and run the gauntlet. I can avoid
a lot of the casual contacts of the mall patrons easily enough. But in the
store, it's just me and the clerk.
He came back in a moment and said, "Here we go, sir."
I put the jacket on first and then stepped into the slacks, fastened and
zipped them up.
"How does the fit feel to you, sir?" the clerk said, coming toward me.
"It's fine." I said. "Same as last year."
"Let me check the fit on you."
"You don't really have to." I said.
"But sir, we pride ourselves on making every suit a personal experience."
the clerk said. "If you'll permit me to check the adjustments."
"Go ahead." I sighed. Every year the same thing.
His hand came up and pressed my crotch from underneath. Not feeling me
up...or not exactly. "Is that too tight on you, sir?"
"No." I said.
"Do you dress right or left?"
"Left." He was asking which leg of the trousers I aimed my cock at when
wearing pants, every clerk every year asked me that. It was the usual
prelude to....
"It's important that we allow you sufficient room for your mode of
dress...right here." His hand was now on my cock. Feeling it out. "If you
don't have the right cut, it can be...very uncomfortable."
"I feel comfortable." I said. But his hand didn't stop.
"Maybe we should have a closer look." was his rather unoriginal ploy.
I sighed. "Sure. Why not?" I wasn't getting out of this. Not and get my
suits, and I needed my suits.
His hand went to the fly and undid and unzipped my pants with the practiced
alacrity of the tailor. He opened the fly and reached up to pull the pants
down. It was only accidental that my briefs also got caught and lowered as
he lowered my pants. Yeah, right!
"Yes, I can see that we'll have to do some adjusting here." the clerk
crooned as he pulled my dong on out of my briefs. "We wouldn't want this to
be a source of discomfort for you."
"It wasn't." I said helplessly.
His hand was working my pud, maybe when I turn fifty I can take a hand on
my cock and it not get hard. For now, though, all I could do was watch as
Old Faithful rose the occasion once more.
"Yes, I can see now that the fit of these pants is not going to work for
you without a significant alteration." the clerk said.
Get it over with! "Maybe if you would help me deflate it again so you can
get a proper fit?" I sighed.
"Of course, sir." the clerk said. "We aim to please our customers." And his
mouth reached up and slid over my dong.
"I'm sure you do."
At least he wasn't like the guy of two years ago. Elderly, the guy had some
kind of palsy going, his hands shaking. Also his lips as he sucked on
me. At least this guy was young and pretty cute. Oh, God, and he could suck
cock like a pro!
"Ohhh, man!" I gasped.
His lips were slurping noisily now, he had worked up a good load of spit
and that was making the liquid sounds as his mouth slid up and down on my
tool. Oh, God, this guy was worth it! So damned worth it! I'd been dreading
the yearly "suit-suck" I had to endure to get my new suits, but the clerk
now gulping down my prod to the very base was a lot better than most of the
sex I'd had.
"Oh, ah, uh, guh!" I guttered. "God, you're good! Man, I'm about to shoot
my nut here!"
"Mmmh, mmm-hmm!" was his muffled response, I think that was meant to be,
"Oh, you bet!"
"Gonna come, gonna come, uh-uh-uh, GUHHHHH!"
"Mmmh, muhh, GHHH, NNHHH!" I think the guy just came in his pants while
sucking me! It happened. They get so turned on by my body and my killer
good-looks (not bragging, just stating a fact drummed into me by the near
unending line of gropes and suggestions I endured whenever I went out in
public), these men would suck me and when I shot my wad into their throats,
they would shudder and spurt in their briefs. Kind of a special compliment,
not to mention it let me avoid having to reciprocate when I didn't want to.
As it was, I got to enjoy my orgasm in peace. His mouth never stopped, even
while he was moaning, and that added a specially nice dimension to the
sucking, I squirted his mouth full and that was sloshing around my cock
while he groaned, then he caught himself long enough to gulp it down and
then he moaned some more. Damned good blowjob, even for a tailor-shop
special.
Done, I said, panting, "Can we get my suit fitting done now?"
"Uh, huh, uh!" the clerk panted. "Certainly, sir." His hands trembled as he
wielded the tape and marked the cuffs, but he got it all done.
Stood up and said, "We also have the French silk in gray, medium brown, and
gray pinstripe."
"I'll take one blue, one gray and one brown." I said. "And I'll need some
shirts."
"We don't sell shirts." the clerk explained. "Store rules about
competition, we had to leave the shirts to the department stores at the
anchors (he meant the two ends of the mall) and to David's Shirts. Just
down that way and next level up."
"Oh, great!" I groaned. Another stop on the way." I got my jeans back on,
and went to tread the travails of the mall once more.
Other than a contact with a girl I'd figured too young to be interested, I
got through without undue difficulty. I fielded that little hand and cast a
nervous look at her mother, but Mom was too busy slavering after me to
notice what her little precious darling had just done.
David's Shirts was just that, shirts and nothing else. Maybe I can get in
and out of her intact after all.
"May I help you, sir?" came the voice. I turned and saw the rather large
black man with the yellow name tag and those eyes that blazed like black
fire and I groaned.
"Yes, I need some shirts." I said. "I wear a 16 inch neck, 32 long."
He didn't bother much with the usual coating of nonsense. Just came over
and said, "I think we can fit you out." and his hand came up and cupped one
of my breasts. "Give you a real nice covering on these pretty little tits
of yours."
"Uh, six shirts, two white, two blue and the others, what colors do you
have, maybe a yellow or a pink?" I got out.
And his hands circled me and his lips reached not for my own, but for my
neck. His body was firm against mine and his hand came down and cupped my
buttocks, pulled me tight against him. I felt that hard dong up against my
leg and I knew that I wasn't getting away with just letting him give me a
blow job here.
We ended up with me thrown onto a table loaded with shirts and the plastic
wrapping of them crinkled under me. His full lips were reaching for my
crotch, but he was shoving his own unleashed dong at me as well. Man, what
a monster! Ten full inches of hard black dick, I was going to take it or
else!
I sighed. At least the guy was hunkalicious, better than some I'd ended up
with in my excursions. When his mouth swarmed over my spent but willing
rod, I went ahead and took him in my own lips, managed not to choke when he
rammed in on down! God, what a tower of manhood he had, I could've enjoyed
this a lot more if I didn't have stiff shirt collars biting into my back
and a cock that had already been pretty well drained less than ten minutes
before.
He sucked at me diligently, pausing only to spray his wad down my throat
halfway, and then he kept it up as I suckled his flaccid pole, managed to
bring myself up to the heights of delight once more. I didn't have the
volume I gave the suit shop clerk, but I leaking a teaspoon or so of jism
onto his tongue and he settled for that earnest in payment, let me up
again.
"Got a hot little body on you." he said as we did our clothes up. "I could
take you home with me and give you a real ride."
Looking into his eyes, I knew which one of us would be the rider and which
one the horse he rode! "I'll give you my number." I promised him. "Now
about my shirts...."
He got a number from me all right, though I paid him in cash. The number
would connect him to a retirement center, but he got the number and grinned
as I left, bag in hand, with the shirts and with three silk ties I saw as
he was fetching the shirts in my sizes. One less stop to have to make.
"Now just a pair of shoes." I gasped. "Please, God, just a pair of shoes
this time, huh?"
The slim, blond guy in the shoe store smiled as I came in. "Welcome, sir,
what can I do to you...for you?"
I sighed. You can't win them all!
As usual with my shoe-buying, he picked the chance as he was fitting my
shoes to my feet to slide that hand on up my leg. When it got to my crotch,
I moaned. It wasn't passion, but he took it as that and dove to mouth my
groin. I managed a feeble erection and he got my pants open and began
sucking on me, hard and fast but without a lot of panache. I had to fake an
orgasm that time, but I had enough precome leaking out (or post-come, might
be a better word) that he was fooled by my grunts and groans.
I got my shoes, wondered if I dared try for a belt or just get out of
there. Next time, when I was ready to buy a new watch, maybe, I'd pick up a
new belt.
My sister met me at the hair salon which had been her reason for coming
by. "Brad, you're done already?" she asked in dismay.
"Yeah." I said. "If you're done with your hair, let's get out of here." I
was watching the women in the shop. They might mass up and rush me, you
know. That hadn't happened yet, but it was my main fear when faced with
women feeding on each other's whispered comments behind their hands as they
ogled me.
My sister was bitching but let me lead her out. I suffered no worse than a
pretty strong grip by an old woman with a walker (a walker!) as we walked
by her. My sister thought it was funny, but she'd never believed me when I
told her my travails when I went out in public.
"I swear, Brad, you think you're so damned attractive to women." she
sneered. "It really is pathetic."
"What about Geriatric Gertie and her Grope of Death?" I asked her.
"She's senile. I wish you enjoyed shopping more, Brad."
"I shopped until I dropped. If I enjoyed it any more, I'd be dead now." I
assured her. And we escaped the mall and, secure behind my car's tinted
windows, I headed back home once again.
THE END
Comments, complaints or suggestions?
E-mail the Author at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
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